Shaken Sangfroid
by Exploding Dandelion
Summary: He must be the pillar of strength. He must endure and show no weakness. He must be the one she leans on, and so, he cannot crumple. It is both their losses, but he refuses to feel it. Retaining control is what matters to him now. Grief and anger can come later, if at all. But he must stay in control. He will stay in control.


**A one-shot, slight AU, and depressing in a detached sort of way, are the best ways to describe this. I think. Regardless, thank you those who read, enjoy, despise, review, favorite, etc. **

**To the story.**

* * *

It is the third day since the news, and Hope still isn't able to get much of a coherent sentence out of Serah.

Not that he expected to, but something is better than nothing, and he all he has is nothing. It is strange that he is the one standing in her kitchen, cooking meals and sweeping up, and doing the small and normal things that keep a household running. In contrast, Hope last saw Serah huddled in a ball on her bed, holding Snow's pillow to her chest and sobbing into the fluff.

Hope shudders a bit, glancing at his meager plate of food. A single grilled cheese sandwich sits on top, one side burned black, but the other a deep, golden brown. He bites his lip and moves toward Serah's room, ignoring the pictures of Serah, Snow, Lightning, and himself on the walls.

_Just pretend things are normal. If you act like they're normal, maybe she'll feel a bit more normal too. It's worth a shot, right?_

His advice is hollow, but he clings to it. So far, his voice of reason is the only thing trying to help him. He knocks on Serah's door and waits three heartbeats for an answer.

All he receives is a sniff.

Nodding to no one, Hope opens the door and holds out the food, peeking his eyes over the door's edge. "Hey, Serah." Hope smiles a bit, his cheeks aching from the effort. "Brought you some food. It's been a while since you ate anything, and I don't want you to go hungry or something."

No answer.

He steps inside and maneuvers around the piles of tissues, thrown blankets and pillows, and a few shards of glass. A broken picture frame sits on the floor, the shattered glass and wood littering the photo. Hope spares it one glance before sitting on Serah's bed. His weight causes the mattress to sink, but Serah lays still, staring blankly ahead at the wall.

"Hungry?" Hope places the food on the end table, blinking at her neutral face. "I did my best. I didn't make the smoke alarm go off this time either! I think that's a step up, don't you?"

Silence.

Hope resists the urge to grab his now throbbing head. Silence gives him worse headaches than noise ever could.

"I could try to make you something else, if you don't want that." His voice wavers and he narrows his eyes, swallowing. "Maybe a salad? Salads are pretty safe. Or maybe some eggs? Those microwave dinners?"

Nothing. Not a peep. Not even a sniffle.

Hope's heart clenches and he sighs again.

"Water?" His eyes flicker to the untouched glass he'd left her an hour ago, and his shoulders slump. His gaze edges to her, and he winces. Her blue eyes are glass, bright and clear and utterly unseeing. Her pink hair is a mess, strands poking in all directions, and some sticking to her face because of tears and running snot. Her clothes are torn in several places and when he moves to touch her, her pale skin is clammy.

"You feeling sick? I could get some medicine for you."

She doesn't even glance at him. His stomach simmers and he glares at the bedpost, gritting his teeth. "Are you sure there's nothing I can get you?"

Serah doesn't blink.

Hope opens his mouth, ready to scream and spit and shout at her. To demand answers to his litany of questions, and to ask new ones, like when _he_ was allowed to just shut down like she was doing. His hands itch to throw things like she had, to tear at her like she had him. A choking sound bubbles from his mouth before he shakes his head and rises. He heads for the door, head pounding, muscles aching from a fight he'd never had.

He reaches for the doorknob and Serah finally speaks.

"Get me Snow."

Hope's eyes burn without warning and he bows his head. His whole body weighs him down. He feels himself sinking under its weight, under Serah's weight, under the house's weight. Lungs nearly failing him, he manages to choke out, "I can't get you that."

Her voice is broken, each word a fragment of the cracked sound.

"I know."

Hope closes the door before she can see his shining eyes.

* * *

Sleep eludes him for days. Between dealing with lawyers and funeral directors and financial advisers and Serah, his brain rightfully decides there is no time for rest. Exhaustion peels and scrapes at the back of his head though, like someone has taken a small knife to him. His muscles quickly become threads of lead, slow and hard to move.

But Serah is eating. Serah is eating, and that is all he needs. She had been looking so thin; she was a small girl before, but the last few days had left her gaunt. Bones poked through her wrists and he'd seen more of her collarbone than he ever wanted to.

So when she eats his poorly made sandwich he nearly cries.

"Hope...you need to take care of yourself too."

She's slow to say it, just as she'd been slow to eat.

_But it doesn't matter! She's eating. She's_ eating. _That's all I need from her for now. We can work on strength later. And the money thing...I wonder if she'll be able to talk to that lawyer. I don't want to push her too soon. And we need...need to figure out the plot-if Snow will be next to Lightning..._

The thought lingers for a moment before he stands, promising to check up on Serah later, and that, "Yes, I'll take care of myself."

He sweeps the kitchen and dusts the shelves and does everything he can to forget. By the time his body fails him and he collapses on the couch, the digital clock on the living room table blinks four in the morning.

Two hours later, when the alarm sounds through the room, Hope sits up and begins the process all over again.

* * *

The funeral is held on a bright day. Sunshine weaves its way through the trees and car windows, and when he and Serah step out with the others, the heat wraps itself around them. Serah's black gown envelopes her body from the neck to her feet, and her face is obscured by a shrouded, lacy veil. Hope's own black suit hangs loose around his arms, and he wonders why it seems too roomy within the fabric.

The words said by the priest and Snow's friends are a blur. So are Serah's words. And his own. Nothing touches him, holds his attention, but the coffin. He looks inside and sees his friend, this man he'd once tried to kill, now sleeping within a cradle of wood.

Snow's face doesn't smile, like Hope is used to witnessing. Instead it is a firm, straight line, lips colored pale white. The eyes are closed. Sunken and dark and everything that Snow is not. The man is dressed in his best suit and his hands cup each other. Silence screams from unmoving lips, and Hope shifts when he sees that death has bloated his friend.

He looks for seconds, turning away before this image can replace the Snow he remembers and longs to see. Snow laughing, Snow grinning like an idiot, Snow fumbling around in the kitchen during holidays in a vain attempt to help Serah. Snow that is always kind and careful with him, until Hope says he's not a kid anymore. Snow who is forgiving and vibrant and warm.

This is the Snow he wants and can no longer have.

It is a relief when his body sinks into the ground, and dirt is piled atop the coffin. Serah and Hope watch with glazed eyes, as the remnants of Team NORA begin the task of burying their leader.

Lebreau's dark hair hangs over her pale face, but Hope can spot the black tracks of running make-up. Maqui makes to attempts to hide his grief, sniffling and choking as he shovels dutifully. Gadot does the task in silence, eyes burning and body stiff. And Yuj wipes himself clean of emotion. Hope cannot read him, which he is sure Yuj intended.

The task ends but Hope hears white noise crackling in the back of his mind. The tombstone is shiny and new, with _Snow Villiers_ etched in neat cursive. The dirt reeks of fresh earth, and the sun beats down on them harder. Heat that blasts through Hope's skin, but cannot seem to reach his heart, which beats slow and cool.

Hope glances at Serah, who stands tight beside him. Her hands are clasped in front of her, the grip hard from how white her fingers turn. Her shoulders are straight and her head is tilted up, so that she can read the tombstone, but not look at the grave. Hope realizes she is given a clear view of Lightning's stone as well, and swallows when his own eyes catch it. Ice shards dig into his chest, fracturing ribs as they go, and he bites back a gasp. Serah's head turns minutely in his direction, but she gives no other notice of the brief whoosh of air.

Eyes throbbing, Hope lets his hair fall over his eyes, alarmed by how quickly his control slips. His jaw tightens from the effort of holding on, and he grinds his teeth and savors the sound. He opens and closes his mouth in silent gasps, jerking his leg a bit to let himself breathe.

He closes his eyes and waits, waits, _waits. _Screaming at himself, he clenches his hands and forces the flood back, and dams it away with all the thoughts he can.

_You need to be strong. Serah needs you now more than ever. What would Lightning do if she saw you crying? And what about Snow? You can't let him down by falling apart like this. No, you need to suck it up and be that stone pillar Lightning always talked about. Be someone Serah can lean on. Be someone she can turn to. _

_No one needs a crybaby, so stop acting like one. _

He nods to himself in silent agreement. The heat that had pooled in his head begins to sink back into his body and fade, finally leaving him be. His body almost crumples, muscles heavy and hot from the effort.

But he is back in control. When night comes and it is only he and Serah that are left in the cemetery, he is the one that leads them back to the car. He cooks dinner for the night and puts Serah to bed, before finishing the night off with another round of chores. Working himself to exhaustion, he avoids the nightmares and the dreams of dead mentors and friends and mothers. When he wakes, he begins it all again.

His mantra is the same.

_Stay in control. Stay in control. Stay in control._

* * *

"Hope...I want to apologize."

Hope jumps and whips around, blinking at Serah at the kitchen doorway. She is in her light pink nightgown, but dark rings beneath her eyes reveal her lack of sleep. He stops wiping down the counter, fiddling with the rag.

"What are you apologizing for? I'm the one who burned dinner." His eyes travel to the sink, where a blackened pan rests alone. His eyes snap back to her and his stomach bottoms out. Her eyes are hard. She steps closer to him, squaring her shoulders. Hope's back begins to itch.

"That's not what I meant." She waves around the kitchen, then out the doorway toward her living room. "I've been-been zoning out, and just letting you handle things, and it's not right. I did it to you _and _Snow when...when Lightning..."

Serah trails off, voice cracking. Shaking her head, she looks back at Hope. "And now I'm doing it to you too. And you've been nothing-nothing but nice, and patient, even when I started those fits."

Hope shakes his head and leans into the counter to keep his legs from trembling. "It's really nothing, Serah. I want to be there for you."

"I'll start helping more, Hope. I promise." Serah's eyes are still hard though, and her words are slow. She narrows her eyes, her gaze flickering when Hope's body tightens.

"No, it's okay, Serah. I really don't mind. I want to do this. I want to help you." Hope smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. His heart flutters in his ribs and his breath shortens. "I can handle it, trust me."

"I'm not saying you can't handle it. I'm saying I want to help." Three steps closer. She's gaining ground and it takes all Hope's effort not to run away. Wringing the rag in his hands, he repeats the words in his head.

_Stay in control. Stay in control. Stay in control. Stay-_

"You haven't been sleeping much at all." She's a foot away from him now. He can't look her in the eyes and settles for her nose.

"Neither have you."

"But your rings are way worse than mine. I checked a mirror before coming in here. And they are no where near as dark or deep as yours."

Hope swallows. "I've always had trouble sleeping. Bad insomnia my whole life."

"It wasn't this bad, though. It wasn't anywhere near this bad."

"Well, death does that to people, doesn't it? Changes them?"

His heartbeats quicken. Everything about this makes him squirm and he starts edging toward the doorway. Serah blinks, easily shifting in front of him and blocking his means of escape.

"You're working yourself too hard. You need a break." She whispers under her breath, "You promised."

Hope shakes his head and pulls at the loose threads of the rag. He turns away from her, still shaking his head, still toying with the rag before he starts scrubbing the counter again. "I don't need this right now. Go back to bed, Serah."

"No. It's my house, and I'll go to bed when I choose."

Serah growls when Hope reaches for the liquid soap, dabbing some on the rag before running water and making a lather. He runs the rag over the counter in wide, sudsy circles, jaw set.

"Stop cleaning and go to bed."

"I'm not tired." He rubs harder, moving to the fridge when he finds no more dirt to wipe up.

"Then rest on the couch. Let your body relax. I'll finish."

Her breath hits his ear and he yelps, jumping away. "No!" He holds the rag to chest, water leaking through the thin shirt. "Just-just let me finish the fridge, and I'll go to bed, okay? Is that all right?" His eyes meet hers and he sees them flicker and darken.

Serah glares at him for several long minutes before giving him a slight nod. She leans back on the doorway, crossing her arms. Hope eyes her, biting his lip.

"Serah?"

"I'm staying here to watch you finish. And to make sure you actually go to bed."

He gapes, but Serah doesn't budge or blink. Hope turns away, a pit in his stomach forming as he wipes down the fridge.

* * *

It is ruined in an instant.

Hope is moving around boxes from Serah's room to the closet, all of them labeled Snow's clothes or Snow's things. Each is filled with the man's shirts and pants and notebooks and comics. Serah is with him, insistent on helping, even as her eyes water whenever she lingers too long on the items.

The work is small. Manual labor, mindless in moving from point A to point B, but it takes all Hope's energy to move to and fro. Serah's stare darkens when Hope begins to slow, which he quickly covers by picking up his feet and pushing ahead of her. The tension between them is tight, choking the air they breathe and cutting their conversations before they can begin.

When Serah catches Hope's sluggish movements for the fifth time, he grunts and moves to place a box on the uppermost shelf of the closet. As he stands on his tiptoes and pushes the box back, the air shifts and he feels light. Heat explodes in his head and moves down his body in hot, nauseating waves. The world tilts to the side and Hope flails, grasping the doorframe when his vision fades to black, then back to the room in an instant.

Serah's voice is muffled, but Hope catches her shriek when he cracks his head on the wall. Pain doesn't come, although he is aware of a dull throb. Gasping for air, Hope blinks hard and narrows his eyes in an effort to see. The world darkens again and the next time he opens his eyes, he's looking up at the ceiling instead.

The light above spins in circles, reminding Hope of fireflies and fireworks.

He blinks at Serah when her face swims above, but blacks out before she speaks.

* * *

_Warm water splashes at his sides, his waving body sending ripples through the endless sea. Above, the sky is painted in pastels, purple and pink and orange clouds swirling together. They mix and explode into flowers, sending trails of color down as they rocket along the skyscape._

_Hands press into his back and Hope blinks at the faces above him. His mother and Lightning stand to the right and Snow to his left, their arms outstretched and keeping him afloat. His heart thunders at the sight of them, but he cannot bring himself to speak. _

_Nora leans toward him, her green eyes drooping. Her silver hair brushes his nose as she pecks him on the forehead. He opens his mouth, stomach clenching, but she disappears in a puff of smoke before he can utter a sound. _

_Shaking his head, Hope turns to Lightning. Her only response is to smile at him. She breaks one hand free from his back and Hope feels his body sink a bit into the water. Lightning, whose face is no longer marred with blood or twisted in pain like the last time he'd seen her, pulls out her knife. She places it on Hope's chest, the cold seeping into his skin and making it erupt in bumps. Then it shudders and submerges itself in his chest, burning as it went. Her eyes darken and her mouth parts, but he cannot hear the words over the puff of air that follows._

_Gritting his teeth when water rolls onto him, Hope's head whips around to Snow, who watches him with careful eyes before his mouth breaks into a grin. Hope reaches for Snow, grabs the man's shoulder, but Snow shakes his head. Snow brings a hand to his mouth, unconcerned with the water that rushes over Hope. Pressing an index finger to his lip, Hope catches a bark of laughter before Snow's gone in a rush of wind. _

_The air knocks out of his lungs and his stomach implodes. Water flows over him, his body sinking under the growing waves. It crashes into him, plugging his nose and mouth and eyes, and he thrashes when all he breathes is liquid. Blinking underwater, Hope watches the colored sky disappear, and slowly, he lets his arms rest and float above him. Opening his mouth to let more water in, he lets his shoulders relax. _

This is all right,_ he decides, eyes closing. _If I can see you all again, it's all right.

_The thought barely forms before two hands dig into his armpits and hoist him up. Hope coughs and splutters on air, hair clinging to his face. His burning lungs contract and expand. Everything spins and Hope's head pulls back. _

_Serah stands above him, eyes wide with worry as she inspects his face. _

"_Hope, you should have waited for me! I was coming, you-you-idiot!" She bites her lip, shoulders sagging. "Sorry...but, you're being kind of silly. You were gonna let yourself drown?"_

"_G-Gone-" Hope's voice catches and he wheezes, body trembling. "Everyone-everyone is gone." _

"_But I'm here, aren't I?" _

_Hope slams his eyes shut. "No...no, you might-you can't see me. Not like this. No, not like-"_

"_Hope..." His name comes out a sigh. He blinks his eyes open and she smiles. "It's all right. I can __stand here for a while."_

"_Serah." _

_She closes her eyes and he does the same when her hands rests below his back. _

"_Just let go," she whispers._

* * *

Rustling blankets are what arouse him, and he tilts his head toward the noise. The motions stop the second he moves and he slowly opens his eyes, wincing at the light pouring in from the window. A small "oh" comes from Serah as she moves toward the window and closes the curtains, leaving only a dim bedside lamp to light the room.

His eyes ease back to her when she sits by the bed, and he blinks when he realizes it's her own. Closing his eyes when his temples throb, sending painful heat down his jaw, he grinds out, "What happened?"

He jumps when she grabs his hand, but he doesn't pull away from her. When he opens his eyes, he swallows at the worried once over she gives him. Her eyes catch his and she tries to smile. "Well, you fainted."

"Faint...ed?"

Serah nods, arching an eyebrow. It's so Lightning-like he almost balks. "Yeah. You know, that thing people do when they feel stressed, or haven't eaten enough, or are dehydrated." She ticks them off her fingers as she goes, rubbing her eyes. "Oh, but you were all three of those, so you were out a second longer than you should have."

Hope closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.

"Sorry," he says, sighing a bit. "Sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Her eyes are soft and she grabs his hands tighter, cupping them in hers. He leans toward the warmth, opening his eyes again.

"I didn't listen to you."

Serah smiles, but it is small and sad. "Yeah...well, maybe you will from now on."

Quiet falls between them, and Hope watches her as she watches the bed. He fights off the sleep that rushes to claim him, not sure if he wants to return to his dreams.

"Dream..."

"Hm?" Serah looks up at him, tilting her head.

"Just...had a weird dream while I was out." He shakes his head, but his face tightens. "It's probably nothing."

Serah's eyes widen though, and she squeezes his hands. "What did you dream about?"

"I said it was nothing." He narrows his eyes, chest burning. "My mom..." he says eventually, "Lightning and Snow. You were there too, at the end of it. But it was a really weird dream."

"What did I say? Or do?"

Hope's shoulders slump, but he smiles a bit at her enthusiasm. "Are you trying to decode me?"

"Come on, tell me."

Hope looks down at their joined hands, eyes misting. "You were holding me up in some water...said that you were coming, and you called me an idiot." He takes a deep breath, the last words still echoing in his ears. "You said to let go."

Her grip tightens, cheeks red. "Um...I was talking a bit, while you were out. Maybe some of what I said leaked into the dream?" Hope's mouth parts, heart skipping. His brain reels for something to say, but Serah talks over it. "Because-I did say something like that. Just before you woke up."

"Serah..."

"And I meant it." Her face tightens, eyes searching the air. "Hope...you haven't cried once since this whole thing began. Even at the funeral. But...you wanted to. I saw it, then, when...when we buried Snow. But you just bottled it up."

Her fingers work his skin while her teeth nibble her bottom lip. "For my sake too, no less. And...and I want you to stop. That's why I started hounding you so much, after the funeral. Because you still weren't-weren't-"

"Stop." Hope shakes his head and tries to inch away. He closes his eyes once more. He wants to block her out and yearns for oblivion to take him again. "No, don't-"

"No. You have to, Hope. Just cry. Even if it's just a little. Just cry."

"I can't-" But he chokes on the words. His eyes are burning and throbbing before she even finishes her sentences, but he fights. Gasps on his breath and reaches for his mantra. His body is too hot and he wants to leave and forget everything and everyone. He does not need this, does not want it.

And he hates the tears. Doesn't want the weakness.

"I can't-can't cry. No-not after-not after-"

_I should be used to this. I should be used to this by now. Everyone dies. No one is invincible. Stop crying. Stop crying, you idiot! Just stop! Stay in-_

"Hope." Serah grabs his face and shakes him. When his eyes meet hers, his chest hitches. Her breath hits his face and she crawls into bed with him. She guides his head to her lap and looks over him, hair brushing his neck. His chest heaves up and down and he bites back the sob. Even as the waves hit him and he feels himself going under, he tries to fight.

_Control! Stay in-_

"Hope, look at me." She jostles him again. He stares up, quickly losing himself in her eyes, which shine with her own tears that drip onto his face. Her fingers caress his cheek and she says through a broken smile, "Just let go."

He shudders out a breath. His chest tightens, then collapses with a sob.

Tears roll down his face but Serah holds him. Keeps him in place and smiles as he croaks out a cry.

So he lets go.


End file.
